Ever wonder why writers always seem a little distracted? Disconnected? Like they are on another planet? With a strange vocabulary and an odd twist on the mundane? It's because we're writers. Through a Writer's Eyes will help you see what we see and how we see and why we say what we do. Feel free to join the conversation. Let me know how you see what I see. Thanks for stopping by! Enjoy the journey!

Sunday, September 25, 2016

I am back in Milwaukee.
It’s where I’m from. Where the story
started. Where I was standing when the
miasma of wind blew into my life and I floated away to another place, another
chapter, another life.

In some ways everything is familiar here. I know the streets, where to turn, where to
walk, where to shop. In others it’s all
different. I don’t see many of the same
people, but I have made many new friends.
I don’t live in exactly the same neighborhoods, so I have new routes to
drive. I don’t go to the same church,
but my new church has already welcomed me with open arms.

I am doing what I love – teaching. And where I’m teaching is both familiar and
strange.

The students are, of course, familiar. Kids are kids no matter what uniform they
wear or where they are born. They all
want to be loved and acknowledged and helped.
They both reject and accept their teachers on a minute-by-minute basis. (One day this week I was told I look like
Adele. The next day, Mrs.
Doubtfire. I’m not sure I resemble either,
to be honest.) Their minds and hearts
are open and I thoroughly enjoy them.

The curriculum is different from what I’ve done before and
so I am challenged in finding the right ways, the best ways, the most creative
ways to present learning. It requires a
lot of energy from me and I see my days overflowing with the demands of it. My mind and my heart are open to it and I
thoroughly enjoy it.

Once again I am doing something I didn’t expect. This whole idea of living for God and
following His lead has some rather unexpected turns.

I thought at 50 I might be teaching, but never expected to
come back to Milwaukee. I thought at 50
I might own a house, but never expected I would own a house, but rent an
apartment in another city. I thought at
50 I might be writing more, but life drains me and writing sits on a shelf with
all the other fun things right now.

I wrote once about autumn as a time when everything dies. Colors are profuse, but for such a short time
until the wind and rain destroy them. I
talked of the cooler air blasting the world with its chill.

Last night I was at a bonfire with some of my new friends
from work. Much like Moscow, I am,
again, somewhat of an outsider to their group.
It’s clear they have shared much of life together. Their familiarity draws them into a tight
bond. They correct and love each other’s
children. Long standing jokes ripple through
their conversation.

The event was quite similar to those enjoyed with my Russian
colleagues. I, also, was somewhat of an outsider there. They had shared much of life together and
enjoyed each other’s company. Commonalities bound them together.

But this time I understood the language and the customs. The same, but different.

I wasn’t lonely on the outside looking in. I didn’t feel left out. I didn’t wonder what was happening around
me. It was nice, actually, to see my new
colleagues through this lens and the warmth of their friendship. I felt encompassed, surrounded, peaceful.

In the center of the clearing was a large bonfire fed by
wooden pallets. A ring of merrymakers
were singing with a box drum, guitars and heavenly voices. Beyond that circle were tag-playing children
whose location could be seen only by the glow-in-the-dark bands about their
neck or wrist. Like neon lights they circled
the space. Above us, tree branch fringe
laced the evening sky.

The wind was cool, but not harsh. Leaves had begun to change, but had not
fallen. Many things have changed in
Milwaukee these ten years I’ve been gone.
Especially me.

It’s a new season, it’s true. But I am not afraid of it. I look forward to it with open arms and a
curious mind. What exactly will we learn
here? Who exactly will we meet? How exactly will this chapter look at its
conclusion?

About Me

I am a writer. It's intrinsic to my existence. I write because I can't not write. I love Jesus. I would say I'm sorry if that offends you, but I'm not. I am a follower of Christ trying to live like Him Who has saved me. I won't apologize for that either. I love to laugh and sing and read and watch people smile. I have two amazing sons, one amazing daughter-in-love and four incredible grandchildren. I am a very rich woman.